


Explanations

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from the episode "Alpha Dogs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explanations

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Compadres #20 and later in Watch Your Six #4 with Mary Fallon Zane.

C.J. kept up a constant stream of softly muttered conversation as he drove back to the Silver Star.  He was in trouble, and he knew it.  But there had to be a way out.  Surely the man would understand that it wasn't really his fault, wouldn't he?

          No, probably not.

          But there hadn't been a damned thing he could do.  It wasn't like they'd expected the mercs to find Jake at the airport.  Hell, who'd go looking for someone in bloody Santa Ana?

          Unless they already knew he was there.

          And how the devil had they pulled that trick off?

          He shook his head, unable to come up with a reasonable answer.

Glancing up at the cloud-dotted sky above him, he wondered briefly where Chance would take Jake next.  Another airport, certainly, but something local or something farther up or down the coast?  Whatever it was, he'd be in contact as soon as he could.  And until then the young man would be safe, Chance would see to that.

          Unless the mercs had attack helicopters.

          _He_ was going to need an attack helicopter.  That, at least, would give him a fighting chance against what was sure to come once he broke the bad news.

          "Damn, damn, damn, damn," he chanted softly.  _Why me?_

          Why hadn't the major sent Margo?  She'd be able to talk her way out of this mess, of that he was absolutely sure.  But he didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of talking _his_ way out of it.

          He was doomed.

All he could do was tell the truth, and hope for the best.  With luck, the major and Margo might be able to keep him from being gutted on the spot.

But he hadn't been that lucky of late.

          He sucked in a deep breath and contemplated how he'd go about telling the truth.  The how might make all the difference, if he got the chance.

          What were the facts?

          The major had sent him.  He'd arrived at the airport, confident that he hadn't been followed.  Jake was there with Chance, giving the pilot a hard time.

          Chance was nearly ready to shoot the young man, and he'd asked C.J. to take over the babysitting duties until he cooled down a little.

No problem.  He'd offered the kid something to drink, fetched it, but then they'd been interrupted.  Mercs on motorcycles.  Coming fast.

There was no time to think, only to react.

They got Jake safely into the German.  But Chance needed time to take off, and the old plane wasn't as swift as they would have liked.

Someone had to hold off the mercs until Chance was airborne, and there was no one else there to do it.  So he'd driven out to meet them, drawing their fire and getting in some good shots of his own.  One man, at least, was out of commission.

The goal _was_ achieved.  Chance got the German off the ground and out of range before any harm could come to Jake.

Wasn't that what _really_ mattered?

C.J. shook his head.  No, probably not to _him_.

But it wasn't like it was a total loss.  Repairs could be made.  A good specialist, and there wouldn't even be any traces left to tell the tale.

But would he listen?  Would he be willing to be reasonable?

"Oh, I'm gonna be in a bloody world of hurt," C.J. sighed quietly.

The Brit pulled off the freeway, getting closer to the Silver Star.  His heart rate picked up and his palms began to sweat.  A few more minutes and he'd have to face the wrath.

He briefly considered turning around and just disappearing, but he knew that would be hopeless.  He'd be tracked down, and that would only make things worse.

No, it was better to face the music now and get it over with, before he changed his mind.

He pulled up and parked behind Margo's Jag.  But he couldn't force himself out of the cab, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter to keep his hands from shaking.

 _Buck up_ , he snapped at himself.  _Face it like a man_.

But he felt more like a mouse.  A mouse that was preparing to walk into the tiger's cage and bait the beast.

With considerable effort he forced his fingers to relinquish his death grip, then swallowed hard and reached for the door handle.  He slipped from the cab, his knees almost giving way when his feet hit the pavement.

Tottering slightly, he plodded to the door, then paused, his hand on the knob.  Mexico wasn't that far away.

          He shook the thought from his mind, drew in a deep breath and commanded his hand to turn the knob and open the door.

          His hand obeyed, but his feet refused to carry him closer to his certain doom.

          _Move, damn you_ , he ordered them.  There was no use prolonging the inevitable.

          He shuffled into the building, taking the steps to the basement slowly, his knees beginning to quake again.  At the bottom of the staircase he paused, glancing around the basement.

          Matt and Margo were working at one of the computers.  There was no sign of _him_.

          Another hard swallow, and several seconds of screaming at himself, and C.J. was moving again.  He crossed the space, finally arriving at the table where the two operators were working.

          He opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped past the lump of terror that was lodged in his throat.  Sweat broke out all along his upper lip.

          "Hey, amigo," Benny Ray greeted him, appearing as if from nowhere behind C.J.

          The Brit flinched, expecting a killing blow from behind.

          Matt and Margo looked up.  "We heard what happened at the airport," she said.  "You okay?"

          He nodded, sure that was pity he saw in her eyes.  _He_ already knew.  "Uh…" was all he was able to articulate.

          "Chance and Jake are on their way back here," Matt added.

          Was that sympathy in the major's eyes as well?  Didn't they plan to help him?

          Benny Ray stepped up behind him, resting his hand on C.J.'s shoulder.  The fearless explosives expert trembled.

"Good shootin'," the sniper praised him.

C.J.'s eyes slid closed as he waited for the sharp burn of the knife that he was sure would be slipped between his ribs at any moment.  The tiger was toying with him, stringing it out for as long as he could.  But he refused to meet death with his eyes closed.  He forced them open again.

"It wasn't my fault," he heard himself nearly whimper.

"What?" Matt asked.

C.J. shook his head, unable to repeat the words.  He waited for his life to flash before his eyes, but it didn't happen.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Margo asked.

C.J. nodded, then squared his shoulders and turned to face Benny Ray.  "Look, I didn't have any other option.  I had to cover Chance and they were well armed."

The sniper cocked his head to the side.  "Yeah, Chance told us."

"If I could've kept it from happening, I would.  But I couldn't.  It _wasn't_ my fault!"

"C.J.," Matt said, reaching out to grip the Brit's shoulder.  "We heard what happened.  Chance said you saved his butt out there.  Good job."

Margo and Benny Ray nodded.

They didn't understand!  They didn't know!

C.J. dipped his head, shaking it back and forth.  "I know, I know, but…"  He looked up, meeting the sniper's concerned gaze.  "I'm so sorry."

Benny Ray's brow furrowed.  "What?"

"I didn't mean for that to happen.  You have to believe me."

"What?" the sniper repeated.

"The Ram."

"My Ram?"

C.J. nodded.  "I'm sure the holes—"

"Holes?"

"—can be fixed."

Benny Ray's eyes narrowed dangerously.  "They shot up my truck?"

C.J. nodded.  "I couldn't—"

"Those bastards," the sniper growled.  "I swear, I get a clean shot, I'll take it."

C.J.'s eyes rounded in surprise.  " _Them?_  You're mad at _them?_ "

The sniper looked at the Brit.  "Hell yes!  They shot up my truck!  You know what it's like, dealing with the insurance agency for this kinda thing?"

The explosive expert's knees almost buckled.  He staggered to a chair and collapsed into it, gulping in deep breaths of air.

"You're _sure_ you're okay?" Margo asked for the third time.

C.J. nodded.  He was spared.  God had looked down on his plight and spared him.  It was a bloody miracle.


End file.
